


Kindle These Lights

by songspinner9



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: #JewishComicsDay, Gen, Jewish Character, Jewish Comic Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songspinner9/pseuds/songspinner9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Peggy and the Howling Commandos, on a freezing cold night and on a mission…stories are told, a few snowballs might fly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kindle These Lights

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to publish something for this event in response to the currently Marvel kerfluffle, and a story snippet I had sitting on my computer just popped out at me. It was important to me that instead of having An Important Episode story, the Jewish part of the story was just one of many. We are part of the larger community, and though our voices should not be ignored or lost, Jewish characters don't always need to be examples who stand out just because they are Jewish. Mrs. Rosen is in honor of my Grandma Sarah.

The frost on the fallen trees wasn’t a good sign for how the night would go without a fire, but the Howling Commandos and Peggy Carter settled down anyway. Instead of crackling flames to warm their hands, they huddled together with the expected amount of grumbling. Steve and Bucky gallantly offered a spot between them to Peggy, mostly since they both seemed to be oblivious to the cold nowadays. After watching the others shiver all day, Steve sometimes hated that he couldn’t feel the biting air as much after the serum. 

“Is Cap gonna warm up his English rose?” Jim snickered from his spot where he huddled up to Dum Dum. “I’m sure he…urk…” His voice was cut off as Peggy moved swiftly to put him in a headlock that he clearly had not expected. 

“Done being juvenile, then?” she inquired more sweetly than she needed to, holding back her own giggles. “Because I am sure I could explain this more clearly.”

Ducking wisely out of the way of their tussle, Dum Dum shook his head. “Peggy, most women would just slap a man who said stuff like that.”

“Well,” Peggy released Morita with a smack to his arm. “I know you lot and I know you don’t mean it the way most men do. And besides…” 

“Besides?’ Steve prompted her to continue as she dropped down to claim her blessed spot of warmth. 

She took a breath, thoughts going where they hadn’t in a while. “I had an older brother, Michael. I grew up with him and he…well, he knew me rather better than I knew myself most of the time, I’m afraid. We played together often as children, having adventures, much to my mother’s despair. I am quite used to the manners of boys and men.”

“Had?” Bucky asked softly.

“He died.” Steve flinched and drew a bit closer to her. “He …he’s the one who recommended me for this job, for field work.” A tiny smile flickered at the edge of her expression. “So many times he…when we were small, we used to stay up on Christmas Eve, refusing to go to bed and sometimes falling asleep on the floor in front of the tree. He convinced me to do that, too. To do rather a lot of things, actually.”

Dugan waited a beat, respectfully, as Peggy composed herself, and then offered up a tale that Steve was fairly sure was at least partly true. For a while, the stories flew fast and warm, distracting the team from the temperature, and Steve watched faces reddened with the bite of the air go softer and wistful, and stories of Christmases with family and friends came one after the other.

Gabe, who’d been softly translating the stories for Jacques, suddenly grinned. “In our house,” he said in a lightning fast switch to English, “my big sister got me up to sneak downstairs. I think I was about 6 years old. Surprised our dad who was down there trying to wrap the presents. Boy, was he mad.”

Dernier elbowed him and jerked his chin at the others with a clear question in his eyes. When Gabe nodded, he spoke quietly in French, voice rough from the cold air. 

“I am an only child,” Gabe translated, staring at his friend in concentration. “It was Hanukkah we celebrated in my house, a house full of cousins every year.” There was a brief pause and a quick “Oui, mon frère. Une fête juive. A Jewish holiday, I know.” He settled against the snowy log at their backs and continued as Dernier did. “A feast and the candles lit, little gifts for the children. My father always told the story the best, of a little group of men fighting for freedom. No hope, no light, so they found it and lit it again. It seemed to be fate that as his son, I escaped being rounded up and found the Resistance.”

Dernier made a gesture that encompassed them all, a wry grin on his face. “Nous allons également gagner la bataille.” 

Gabe put an arm around his shoulder and yanked the Frenchman closer. “We will win this battle, all right. Ancient warriors like that can’t hold a candle to us.”

Groaning at the pun, Peggy threw a tiny snowball at the two even as Gabe was whispering the joke in French. Jacques’s own handful of snow down Gabe’s shirt provoked a curse, a yelp, and absolutely no one being surprised. 

It took Steve a few minutes to restore the usual sort of chaotic order, with a firm reminder that getting wet and chilled would not help anyone so far away from medical help. With a few pockets of their own resistance that may or may not have involved someone aiming a snowball at Steve, everyone eventually settled down for a few hours of sleep, huddled up to one another. 

“Frenchie’s story makes me think about Mrs. Rosen, down the hall.” Bucky murmured from the other side of Peggy.

Steve cocked his head a bit, remembering. “Oh…she made those potato pancakes for Hanukkah and always shared them with us. Said she knew we were growing and always hungry and right next door, and it would be wrong not to share.”

“Ma gave me a plate of cookies the next day to return the favor. I think she counted to make sure they all got to the Rosens’ apartment. Don’t think she trusted her boys, Stevie.”

“Can’t imagine why, Buck.” Steve chuckled softly. “Go ahead and rest…I’ve got first watch.”

Tired eyes were already drooping shut. “Wake me up, Stevie, when it’s time. Don’t take two shifts again…” The yawn that nearly obliterated the last phrase made Steve reach over to ruffle his best friend’s hair. “Get off, punk.”


End file.
